


red strings & bat wings

by quidditches



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Potions Class, Red String of Fate, Secret Relationship, Triwizard Tournament, Yule Ball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 10:56:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13569117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quidditches/pseuds/quidditches
Summary: Strings cross, and strings tangle, and strings knot, but they are forever.Or, Cedric has a full-on crisis about the Yule Ball during Potions.





	red strings & bat wings

Potions was absolutely not, nor had it ever been, Cedric's strength. It was tedious, and it was dull, and the dungeons were cold, and something about Professor Snape left him feeling entirely unsettled. Often, as he sat in the classroom, trying to help his partner as best as possible — he hated the class, but would be damned if he didn't try his best to make sure he wasn't dragging her down with him — his thoughts would wander to distant places. There was a lot to think about, especially lately, with the tournament and all. As his partner flitted about their work station, humming about bat wings and beetle eyes, his mind was occupied with more pressing matters. Namely, the the next task.

It wasn't even really the task consuming Ced's thoughts, truly. The golden egg was troubling, but he figured it wasn't impossible. There had to be some trick he just hadn't found yet. He didn't doubt that, and in the coming month, he'd be proven right in the prefect's bath. The issue weighing on his mind was trivial and perhaps childish, but it left him fidgeting regardless. With the Triwizard Tournament came the Yule Ball, and Cedric had yet to find a date. He wouldn't have been as concerned — or really, concerned at all — if the date hadn't been approaching so quickly.

He huffed, stirring the cauldron as per his partner's orders. As he watched the contents, swirling and shimmering, he thought about possible remedies for his situation. He felt dense for even being worried, but he reckoned he'd feel a whole lot worse if he waited much longer. A drawn-out sigh fell from his lips, catching the attention of his partner.

"I've only asked you to stir," she said, brows furrowed as she tediously prepped for the next phase of the process. "But keep acting like I've asked you to trim Merlin's beard yourself."

Cedric's faced softened, apologetic. "It's not you," he assured, "My thoughts are wandering this morning."

They fell back into a silent lull at their work station, Cedric stirring and his partner doing, well, the rest. He'd help more, really, but she seemed to like it better when he was as hands off as possible. He didn't blame her. It was probably for the best. His potions always had a way of going terribly, catastrophically, unfathomably wrong.

After they put the cauldron over heat, Cedric was back to his thoughts. He knew what he wanted to do, in terms of finding a date for the ball. It wasn't a particularly difficult decision for his mind to make. Since their names had been pulled from the Goblet of Fire, Cedric had forged a bond with Harry Potter. Perhaps it was out of circumstance, being the two Hogwarts champions, brought together by forces of fate and destiny incomprehensible to Cedric. He liked to imagine their meeting in a way he'd read about in a book once. The story had said when people are born, the gods tie an invisible red cord around their ankles to serve as a guiding force for those who are destined to meet. Winding and infinite, the string connects two people. It can bend, and it can stretch, and it can tangle, but the string does not break. It is a constant force, pulling people toward each other and away from others. Strings cross, and strings tangle, and strings knot, but they are forever.

He reckoned his red string was the same as Harry's. Had to be. It was the only way he could explain why Harry's name was even called to begin with. In his mind, it was one big cosmic tug on their string by forces beyond this realm. While his father had been upset about him having to share the glory of championship, Cedric couldn't find it within himself to be anything but intrigued.

After the first task, Cedric had found himself feeling very fond of Harry. They were basically two strangers. Two boys grown from two entirely different sets of circumstances. Two paths winding, intertwining, and crossing, but never quite ever converging. The tournament had thrown them into the wringer together and they came out on the other end as friends. Maybe not because of a fire kindled in their hearts, but the bond was strong, and they got on well, and that was enough for Cedric.

They'd begun spending a nearly excessive amount of time together. If he really wanted to, Cedric could've just justified it to himself by saying they were merely talking about ideas of what the next task might be. But he knew that wasn't it. And truthfully, he didn't want to justify it. He didn't feel bad about spending more time with Harry than he spent with the people he'd considered his best friends. Why should he? Fate had brought them together and letting Harry slip between his fingers would be a clear affront to that cosmic intervention.

But he needed a justification for when people came asking him why he'd been hanging around with the Potter boy so much. The others didn't understand — and, realistically, wouldn't ever understand -- what made their bond so special. To the rest of the school, it just looked like Cedric was paying an awful lot of attention to someone who wasn't even meant to be in the tournament to begin with. Every time anyone would raise the question to him, Cedric would only reply saying Harry was meant to be here just as much as he is. He didn't add on the part where he was glad Harry was here, too.

They'd shared their first kiss maybe three weeks ago. It was, perhaps, later into the night than they should have been out and about. The color had already drained from the sky and the stars hung twinkling upon their newly-black canvas. Cedric had been walking Harry back to his dorm, fingers fastened gently upon his arm. He could tell himself a thousand times it was merely to keep a hold on Harry, but he knew in his heart of hearts, it was the result of an ache to touch him and be close. The moment had presented itself to the pair on a silver platter. A moment of hesitation, of stilted laughter that lasted just a second too long, of eye contact that gripped them and -- it happened like a flash and lasted nearly as long. With red faces and stammering voices, the two bid each other a good night. Harry disappeared into the Gryffindor chambers and Cedric back into the halls of the castle, delighted giggles of the Fat Lady echoing in his ears.

Cedric was pulled from his thoughts by a harsh snap of his potions partner's voice. She was looking at him expectantly and he wished he would've heard what she'd asked him to do. 

"Our champion, my arse," she huffed, grabbing the stirring utensil from his hand and plunging it into the cauldron herself, "Can't even stir a potion when I ask. Some help you are!"

"I'm really sorry," he apologized, "I didn't hear what you'd asked me. I was thinking..."

His voice trailed off into nothing and she didn't seem to mind the absence. Cedric chewed his lip. Time always felt vaguely distorted in Potions, but this seemed like overkill. He watched absently as she added the finishing touches to their concoction, ears feeling hot as she hurled insults at him under her breath. She'd turned to make a final jab at him when the bell dismissing them finally, finally rang. As he collected his belongings, he'd made a mental note that he had to make it up to her next time they met later in the week.

Cedric made the long and begrudging trek back up the stairs to humanity, legs feeling heavy from the effort and from the natural weight that terrible class left in his chest. His spirits perked up considerably when he spotted Harry's face peeking around the doorway. Hurriedly, he conquered the remaining steps and met his friend with a grin and a hug.

"You're just the person I wanted to see. I've got something to ask you."


End file.
